Meet Me in the Moonlight
by Crookshanks Girl
Summary: A treasure hunt to lead her to the one she loves. A fluffy little fairy tale, the story of the love of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Very fluffy. You have been warned.


**Meet Me in the Moonlight**

  
  
_Disclaimer: Pure, unadulterated fluff with all the OOC-ness that implies. Just think of it as a fairy tale and you will understand. I don't write a whole lot of fluff, so feel free to make suggestions for improvement._  
  


The sky in the great hall was a bright blue, sunny and clear. Hermione smiled up at the owls swooping down with the packages. She wasn't expecting anything, but the brilliant spring day was affecting her so that she was full of light and joy. 

And love. 

After all the owls had delivered their packages, a single sparrow spiraled down and landed on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione had never before seen a sparrow deliver mail, but there was a tiny parchment roll gripped in the sparrow's foot. She took the parchment, and before she could even say 'thanks' the sparrow was gone. 

The parchment was a soft eggshell white with a spiky black script. She knew the handwriting very well. Her heart missed a beat as she read the verse written there:

**  
_   
Meet me in the moonlight  
Where children fear to tread  
Where wolves and centaurs gather  
And satyrs make their bed.  
  
No trodden path will guide you,  
No brilliant lights will glow.  
Just listen for my whisper,   
And you'll see where to go.  
  
Don't let your soul be troubled,  
Just let your heart be led.  
Find me in the moonlight,  
And you and I will wed.  
  
Yes, meet me in the moonlight,  
Tonight we shall be wed.  
  
  
** _

It was a long, long morning. She dozed through Charms and made a glaringly obvious mistake in Arithmancy. But nothing was worse than potions. Her Draught of Desire was a jeweled tone of purple when it ought to have been a glowing red. All her classmates looked to her purple mixture with dismay - why wasn't theirs purple? This of course led to much experimentation, including Neville trying to charm his purple to match hers. Havoc ensued.

"Detention, Miss Granger. Please stay after. Everyone else is dismissed."

One by one, they filed out, Ron and Harry giving her empathetic glances as they left. Draco Malfoy was the last to leave. He gave her a smart wink and shut the door behind him.

Silence descended on the classroom. He towered above her and held her in place with a long, thoughtful gaze. She felt herself beginning to tremble. He slowly took her hand into his and touched his lips to the inside of her hand. His words were simple but they resonated deep within her. "Come here tonight. Look on my desk." Then he nodded politely and walked away.

It was going to be a long, long afternoon.

**  
_   
Begin at the beginning -  
I know you will remember.  
The place where we first lingered,  
It happened in September.  
  
The moment you first touched me,  
I knew I had been blessed.  
But even at that moment,  
How could I have guessed  
  
That of all my earthly blessings,  
You would become the best.  
  
_ **  


A parchment that matched the one she had received at breakfast lay open on his desk. She read it quickly and needed no further explanation. She remembered that day with the clarity of a photograph. She had wandered away from Hogsmeade, wearied by Harry and Ginny's bickering and Ron's mooning over whatever female he had been interested in at the time. She wandered aimlessly over the grounds, around the lake, and into the fringes of the forest.

There she saw him, lying in a bed of leaves staring at the gray autumn sky. He became a human being at that moment, she realized, no longer a teacher or a grown-up or a spy. His stern face was relaxed, his eyes lightly closed, his breathing shallow and slow. Possessed by someone other than herself, she leaned down and touched his forehead to wake him.

And instead of snarling or scolding, he sighed.

They talked for an hour and became the most unlikely of friends.

She shook herself from the reverie. It wasn't a long walk to the little clearing in the woods, and it was one she had taken many times last year, her sixth year. They had met there many times, both by chance and by design.

Laying in the grass was another scroll, a smaller one, attached to a stake in the grass.

**  
_   
Between the woods and water,  
There stands a lonely tree,  
I know you will remember what   
She says for you and me.  
  
For this our happy union  
She'd witness if she could,  
S. S. + H. G., eternally,  
Carved deep into her wood.  
_   
**  


She strolled over to the tree - their tree. A birch tree, stubbornly growing strong despite the cold climate. She hadn't been there when he carved it, but he had known that she would find it all the same. She lovingly traced the letters he had carved into the bark - their initials. It was childish and romantic, and she had known at that moment that she was in love with him, and that her love would grow strong in spite of the dark times and contrary social circumstances. 

Below their initials, a message was carved lightly into the bark:  
_ Twelve steps towards Polaris,  
Then forty to the night.  
Kneel down and bless the pillow  
Where I laid my head that night.  
_  


She read the words aloud and they vanished from the surface.

Twelve steps north and forty west, and Hermione stood exactly where she had known she would. This year - her seventh - had wrought a change in their relationship. With the increase of attacks on muggle-born wizards and witches at the end of the summer, Hermione had fled to Hogwarts for safety. She enjoyed two blissful weeks of poring through the library and roaming over the grounds. She had been afraid that he would forget her over the summer, but if anything he seemed to crave her company more than ever. They met up in another clearing, a little deeper in the woods, to read and to sit close together. On the final night of summer, she snuck out and met him after dark. They slept innocently in one another's arms. He had laid his head down on a flat, smooth rock. She had laid her head on his chest.

And there, laying on the rock was another note.

**  
_   
Your touch is such a blessing,  
You will remember this,  
A tiny hole inside the pole  
Where we shared our first kiss.  
  
_ **  


The 'pole' was one of the huge wooden beams that held up the Quidditch stands. It had been a rather boring match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, with Hufflepuff winning from the first. She'd had a terrible day, scraping a pair of barely passing grades on Arithmancy assignments. She hadn't been sleeping well, anxious about the NEWTs, about the war, about her parents, and about his safety. He must have seen her slip out of her seat and down behind the stands to have a good cry. She leaned forward against one of the beams and wept her heart out.

She wasn't alone for long. He found her quickly, turned her around, and demanded she tell him what was wrong. Refused to let her go until she confessed. Then, with a strange, fond laugh, he had kissed her for the first or many times, up against that strong wooden beam. 

There was a knothole, and it became a mailbox for them. If he seemed more tightly wound than usual, she would leave a little treat for him, something to make him smile. She didn't like to write down her feelings, so she would leave him a lemon drop (how he hated them; how it made them both laugh) or a kiss on a piece of paper, or a riddle to take his mind off of the day's aggravations.

And he, well... as it turned out, he was a writer. If Hermione had thought about it when she was eleven, she might have known. _Subtle science and exact art_, indeed. But who thinks about alliteration and rhythm when they are eleven? 

So he wrote to her. Little notes to tell her he was thinking of her, little rhymes to try and cheer her up, or great tomes to pour his heart out to her. He left them there for her, in the little hole. Their little postbox.

And there it was. Another note.

**  
  
_ Tonight we'll find fulfillment,  
The Lioness and the Snake.  
Remember where I told you?  
We were standing by the lake.  
_  
**  


Severus Snape had a fairy godmother who was a seer. Of course, she wasn't actually a fairy. Just one-eighth veela. And she wasn't actually his godmother, either, just a great-aunt on his mother's side. But family legend named her a seer all the same. At his Christening, she bent over his cradle and whispered a prophecy - that the Dark Lord would never be defeated until he brought about the union of the lioness and the snake. 

He believed, and had believed since that first day in autumn in her sixth year, that she was to play the lioness to his snake. He told her so on one unseasonable warm day in February, standing beside by the lake, his large hand wrapped around her smaller one. 

"And so we _must_ be together," he told her quietly. "The fate of the wizarding world depends upon it."

She had laughed. "As if I needed an excuse."

"Do you want me as I want you?" he asked, not daring to look down, but staring out across the lake.

"I want you in every way," she whispered.

Then he kissed her.

She found the spot quite easily - he had marked it with a single starflower, glowing silver against the purple night. A parchment was wrapped around the stem.

**  
  
_ Now pick this lovely flower.  
And hold it up just so.  
This flower is your wedding jewel,  
This nightgown your trousseau.  
  
Now think a little deeper,  
I treasure every tear,  
You cried and laid against me,  
When I was filled with fear.  
  
That night I made a promise  
Which tonight I mean to keep.  
From now until forever,  
May you never need to weep.  
  
Come now unto that garden,  
Where I now stand in wait.  
Hurry, love, come to me.  
The hour is growing late.  
  
Come find me in the moonlight, And tonight we shall be wed.  
_  
**  


How she had cried that day. A weekend not so long ago, she had slipped into the forest to be alone, but found him already waiting for her. She had kissed him ardently, and laid him down in the cool green grass, telling him in plain English words what it was that she desired. She could feel him pressed against her through their thick school robes, and knew that he wanted her as well.

But his conscience would not allow it.

"How will I feel tomorrow, waking up and knowing that I have taken advantage of you?"

"Severus, think!" She kissed him and nuzzled into his neck. "Do I seem like a woman coerced?"

"No," he answered hoarsely. "No, Hermione."

"Then please..." she buried her face in his chest.

"I can't..." He closed his eyes. "If anyone found out that I had taken advantage of you... with our age difference, only a marriage would allow it. Even that would set tongues to wagging... we can't..."

"I can't wait much longer, Severus," she said sadly. "And neither can you."

He had known that she was right, and he promised that it would be soon. But it was weeks before she heard from him again.

And that had only been in the form of a little sparrow.

When she found the little circle of trees where he had made his promise, it was aglow with little fairy lights and wreaths of roses. Severus was there with his back to her, wearing his finest school robes, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood before him in his nightdress. Dumbledore was flanked by Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, each in plain robes of their house colors. 

Albus Dumbledore bowed slightly when he saw her. "Ah, Hermione Granger at last. Have you come before these witnesses of your own free will, in order to accept the life-long pledge of love extended to you by Severus Snape?"

Severus turned around then and gave her a watery, question smile.

She smiled softly. "I have."

"Then let us begin."

**Author's Notes**: _I dedicate this to Fandom Avenger with hearty congratulations. _


End file.
